


this peace and contentment

by tenworms



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Gardens & Gardening, Growing Old Together, Happy Ending, Knitting, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:35:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24783964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenworms/pseuds/tenworms
Summary: Azu and Sasha get their happy ending.
Relationships: Azu/Sasha Racket
Comments: 6
Kudos: 14





	this peace and contentment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SecretLyfe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecretLyfe/gifts).



> HAPPY BIRTHDAY TIA!!! i really hope this is okay!!! i had a lot of fun writing the prompt you gave me :") 
> 
> title from [the orange by wendy cope](https://gladdestthing.com/poems/the-orange)! which as a poem doesn't have a lot to do with this fic but it is nice

The click of Sasha’s knitting needles is soothing. She likes the contact of them, likes the soft weight of the wool in her lap. There’s something deeply comforting about holding sharp metal objects, even now. And there’s something even nicer about creating something. 

She reaches the end of her round and holds up the needles to check her progress. Her stitches are small and dense— packed together in a way one might expect with the combination of worsted yarn and tiny needles— and the subtle ribbing in the wrists (for stretch) looks lovely picked out in the pink wool. She assesses the palm and thinks she must be nearing the point where she’ll have to split off into the fingers. 

“Hey, Azu,” she says, nudging Azu’s leg where they’re nearly pressed together on the loveseat. 

Azu looks up from the novel she’s reading, folding it closed over her hand. “Yes, love?” she says. 

Sasha doesn’t think she’ll ever be bored of Azu calling her that. It’s been years since it started, and even before that Sasha’s has decades to get used to safe, open affection, but it will never stop feeling nice. It’s a reminder that Azu is here, even after such a long time. It’s a reminder that Azu will be here for the rest of her life. 

“Yeah, can you try this on?” She holds up the glove. 

Azu gasps, pressing a scrap paper between the pages and putting her book to the side. “Oh, Sasha, that is stunning,” she says. 

Sasha hands her the glove, and Azu is incredibly gentle as she takes it. Sasha watches: Azu is still so beautiful. Her smile lines are deep with years of laughter, and the silver of her hair is dignified. Sasha feels something well up in her throat. Getting old like this, getting this type of peace, had never really been something she’d expected for herself: but here she is, old and grey and wrinkly, using knives only to chop vegetables, safe and happy in her and Azu’s shared home. 

The glove fits snugly over Azu’s wrists, a little loose over the palms so Sasha can pick it back up later and sew reinforcements into the fabric. They’re meant to be gardening gloves: Azu has a pair she usually wears, but the leather is starting to go thin around the thumb joint and the fingertips and Sasha can never resist making little things for Azu like this. They’ll need steam blocking before they’ll be good to use, just to encourage a slightly better fit and to make the stitches a little more polished and uniform, but Sasha’s pleased with them. Her estimation of the size of Azu’s hand was spot on, she thinks. Some of the more esoteric skills she learned as a pickpocket are actually quite useful when creating things for the people she loves. In any case, she was right— it looks like only a few rows before she’ll have to tackle the fingers. It should be tricky, but she’ll manage. 

Azu flexes her hand slowly, wiggling her thumb around. 

“So, what do you think?” says Sasha. 

Azu looks up at her, brown eyes big and soft, and says, “They’re beautiful, sweetheart.”

Sasha smiles. “Yeah?”

“Yes!” says Azu, carefully and delicately pulling the unfinished glove off and setting it on the table before leaning forward and pulling Sasha into a hug, pressing kisses to her cheeks. 

Sasha laughs. It’s taken her a while to get comfortable with random physical contact like that, but they’ve talked about it at length, and she trusts Azu. She cradles Azu’s soft cheek in her hand, pulling her away. “‘S not done yet!”

“Yes, I know,” says Azu, matter of fact, “but it is beautiful craftsmanship, nonetheless.”

Sasha smiles, broad and comfortable, rubbing her thumb across Azu’s cheek before dropping her hand and picking the knitting back up from the table. Azu retrieves her book, too, and they go back to comfortable silence. They lean on each other. 

—

The morning air is warm and light, and there’s a glaze of crisp dew across the garden. Azu is kneeling on a thick cloth next to her butterfly bush, carefully pruning back the excess stems so that it’ll grow back strong and steady this season. 

It’s not warm yet. It’s just starting to get bright out, and the mountain sun cuts golden paths through the damp air where it’s split by the tree heaths. The gloves that Sasha made for her feel like a second protective skin over Azu’s hands. They work wonderfully: few thorns can slip through the tightly reinforced fabric Sasha has woven, and the yarn she chose is a comfortable texture. 

There’s the sound of rustling behind Azu. It’s deliberate: she knows Sasha’s default state is generally a sneak. She could absolutely approach silently if she wanted, but she also knows Sasha likes to be careful not to startle her. So she turns, and Sasha’s there, looking as relaxed as she ever gets wearing her robe and a pair of slippers. All her hair is white to match that patch of bleach at the nape of her neck, now. This early in the morning, it always sticks up in soft unruly tufts. 

Azu smiles. “Morning, sweetheart,” she says. 

“Morning,” Sash says, yawning hugely. She takes a moment to stretch her back, then crouches on the short grass, wincing as she goes. “What’s up?”

Azu smiles. “I’m pruning the buddleja,” she says. “They need to be pruned in March so they’ll grow fresh strong shoots.”

Sasha picks up one of the clippings, running the long, pointed leaf between her fingers, bending it experimentally. “Neat,” she says, awkward as ever, but Azu can tell she is genuinely interested in what Azu has to say. ”And how about those ones?” She points to a small group of new sprouts, tender and deep green already, their leaves dark and deep-veined. 

“Heliotrope,” Azu tells her, smiling. “They’ll be lovely flowers when they’re grown, bright purple. They smell of vanilla, too.”

Sasha nods, biting her lip as she thinks. “Didn’t we have those last year? They’re nice,” she says. 

“They are,” says Azu. “Hmm. Here. Let me—“ She takes a moment to stand back up, steadying her hand on her knee and letting her vertibrae pop loudly. “Oof. Come with me. I want to show you something.”

She takes Sasha’s hand to pull her up. Then she lets go, takes a moment to carefully tuck her glove into the pocket of her apron, and then takes her hand again. Sasha squeezes her hand, just once, and Azu squeezes back. She leads her just across the garden to the other side of the herbaceous border: the part of the garden she knows is sunnier. She points at the row of five seedlings lined up at the foot of a trelis. “I planted these for you,” she says. 

Sasha looks at her. “What are they?” she says. 

Azu bites her lip. “Jasmine,” she says. “It reminds me of you.” 

The surprise— hiding the seed packets, keeping it a secret— is worth it for the delight on Sasha’s face right now, Azu thinks. She looks like she’s about ready to melt. 

“That’s— quite nice,” says Sasha, grinning ear to ear. “Cheers.”

Azu squeezes her hand again, and they have a moment together in the silver-gold early morning sun. 

“I made breakfast,” says Sasha, casually. “Um, come inside?” 

Azu’s stomach growls loudly, and they laugh together. Azu follows Sasha inside, and the dawn breaks on another day.

**Author's Note:**

> this is set roughly near azu's mountain village in kenya!! since i'm from the US and i barely know anything about gardening here i did a bunch of googling to make sure i had at least some idea of what azu's garden might look like/what kind of plants might be in it!!! as such, not to put a bibliography on a 1k fic but here are my sources: [x](http://kenyahs.com/2013/09/26/the-scented-garden/) [x](https://plantsgalore.co.ke/) [x](https://www.countryliving.com/uk/homes-interiors/gardens/a844/how-to-grow-and-care-for-buddlejas/) [x](https://www.britannica.com/place/Kenya/Plant-and-animal-life) [x](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heliotropium) [x](https://www.fragrantica.com/news/Heliotrope-in-Perfumes-2755.html)  
> hopefully i got it somewhat right but if anyone who knows more about this than me (i.e., Anything) has any corrections, let me know & i'll fix it!!
> 
> i'm also on tumblr at @melody-pendras!


End file.
